"Carl Hiaasen - Hoot" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hiaasen Carl)

Hoot
Carl Hiaasen


Hoot
For Carly, Ben, Samantha, Hannah, and, of course, Ryan

ONE
Roy would not have noticed the strange boy if it weren't for Dana Matherson,
because Roy ordinarily didn't look out the window of the school bus. He
preferred to read comics and mystery books on the morning ride to Trace Middle.
But on this day, a Monday (Roy would never forget), Dana Matherson grabbed Roy's
head from behind and pressed his thumbs into Roy's temple, as if he were
squeezing a soccer ball. The older kids were supposed to stay in the back of the
bus, but Dana had snuck up behind Roy's seat and ambushed him. When Roy tried to
wriggle free, Dana mushed his face against the window.
It was then, squinting through the smudged glass, that Roy spotted the strange
boy running along the sidewalk. It appeared as if he was hurrying to catch the
school bus, which had stopped at a corner to pick up more kids.
The boy was straw-blond and wiry, and his skin was nut-brown from the sun. The
expression on his face was intent and serious. He wore a faded Miami Heat
basketball jersey and dirty khaki shorts, and here was the odd part: no shoes.
The soles of his bare feet looked as black as barbecue coals.
Trace Middle School didn't have the world's strictest dress code, but Roy was
pretty sure that some sort of footwear was required. The boy might have been
carrying sneakers in his backpack, if only he'd been wearing a backpack. No
shoes, no backpack, no booksЧstrange, indeed, on a school day.
Roy was sure that the barefoot boy would catch all kinds of grief from Dana and
the other big kids once he boarded the bus, but that didn't happen....
Because the boy kept runningЧpast the corner, past the line of students waiting
to get on the bus; past the bus itself. Roy wanted to shout, "Hey, look at that
guy!" but his mouth wasn't working so well. Dana Matherson still had him from
behind, pushing his face against the window.
As the bus pulled away from the intersection, Roy hoped to catch another glimpse
of the boy farther up the street. However, he had turned off the sidewalk and
was now cutting across a private yardЧrunning very fast, much faster than Roy
could run and maybe even faster than Richard, Roy's best friend back in Montana.
Richard was so fast that he got to work out with the high school track squad
when he was only in seventh grade.
Dana Matherson was digging his fingernails into Roy's scalp, trying to make him
squeal, but Roy barely felt a thing. He was gripped with curiosity as the
running boy dashed through one neat green yard after another, getting smaller in
Roy's vision as he put a wider distance between himself and the school bus.
Roy saw a big pointy-eared dog, probably a German shepherd, bound off somebody's
porch and go for the boy. Incredibly, the boy didn't change his course. He
vaulted over the dog, crashed through a cherry hedge, and then disappeared from
view.
Roy gasped.
"Whassamatter, cowgirl? Had enough?"
This was Dana, hissing in Roy's right ear. Being the new kid on the bus, Roy